THE NEW VENTURE
The rainy season, which was very long drawn out that year, came to an
end about the last week in August. The work of ploughing and sowing
was immediately begun. As M. Zermatt did not propose to start upon the
expedition to the interior before the third week in September, there
would be ample time for this labour.
On this occasion the two families decided not to settle in at
Falconhurst. The dwelling-place in the air had suffered damage during
the recent storms, and some repairs were necessary. They would merely
pass a few days there to attend to the sowing, the pruning of the
vineyard, and what had to be done for the animals; and they would not
make any longer stay at Wood Grange or Sugar-cane Grove or Prospect
Hill.
"We must remember," said M. Zermatt, "that when our absent ones come
back, with all the new friends that they will bring, Colonel Montrose,
your son James and his wife, my dear Wolston, and perhaps some new
colonists, additions will be absolutely necessary at Falconhurst and
the other farms. Some additional pairs of hands will be uncommonly
useful for all that work, which is bound to be heavy. Let us confine
our attention now to our fields and stables and poultry-yards. We shall
have quite enough to do in the next two months, while waiting for the
_Unicorn_."
As Mme. Zermatt and Mrs. Wolston must stay at Rock Castle, they agreed
to be responsible for everything both in and out of doors, the cattle,
the birds on Goose Pond, and the vegetable garden. They gave Hannah
permission to go with her father to the farms, and the girl and Ernest
were equally pleased.
The waggon, drawn by the two buffaloes, and the three asses, was to be
used in the transport across the Promised Land. M. Zermatt, Ernest,
Mr. Wolston and Hannah were to drive in the waggon, while Jack, who
always enjoyed acting as scout, was to ride before them on the onager,
Lightfoot.
On the 25th of August, the first halt was made at Falconhurst. The
weather was fine, with a light breeze blowing from Deliverance Bay. The
heat, as yet, was not excessive. The journey along the shady avenue of
trees which lined the river bank resembled a pleasant stroll.
There was no agricultural labour to be done at Falconhurst. The fields
which had to be sown were at the other, more remote, farms. The whole
time was devoted to the animals, to supplying them with fresh food,
executing some necessary repairs to the sheds, and cleaning and
dredging the little stream which watered this property.
The magnificent trees in the adjoining wood had withstood the fierce
assaults of the storms, though not without the loss of a few branches.
All this dead wood had to be collected and piled in the woodsheds in
the yard.
It was discovered that one of the largest mangrove-trees had been
struck by lightning. Although the same fate had not befallen the tree
which supported the aerial dwelling-place, Ernest thought it would be
prudent to protect it by means of a lightning conductor reaching above
the top of its highest branches and connected with the ground by a
metal rod. He determined to look into the matter of this device, for
the summer season was broken by many thunderstorms, and the electricity
might have caused serious damage at Falconhurst.
All this work took three full days, and it was not until the fourth
that M. Zermatt returned to Rock Castle. He left it again forty-eight
hours later with his companions, and, riding and driving as before,
they took the road to Wood Grange.
The distance between Rock Castle and that farm was covered in the
morning. Directly they arrived, everybody set to work. It was here that
the sheepfold was, with an annually increasing number of sheep and
goats; and here, too, was a poultry-run with several hundreds of birds.
There was damage to be repaired in the hayloft, where the feed from the
last harvest had been stored.
The dwelling-house did not appear to have suffered at all from the
bad weather. This, however, was not the mere shanty of the early
days, made of flexible reeds and slender, pliable poles. It was a
brick cottage now, coated outside with sand and clay, and inside with
plaster, so that it was impervious to damp. The cotton plantations
contiguous to Wood Grange appeared to be in excellent condition. So,
too, did the marsh, now a regular rice-field, the soil of which had
not been undermined by the rains. On the other side, Swan Lake was
full almost to the top of its banks, even at its lowest, but there was
nothing about it to suggest an inundation of the adjacent fields. The
little lake was alive with countless flocks of aquatic birds, herons,
pelicans, snipe, moorhens, and, most graceful of all, coal-black swans
sailing in pairs upon its surface.
Jack brought down several dozen ducks, and a magnificent water-cavy,
which he got in the underwood, and which the waggon would take back to
Rock Castle.
The monkeys had ceased to trouble. Not a single one was to be seen.
Since the massacre of so many of them they had wisely decided to decamp.
Having attended to the animals, they applied themselves to sowing
the Wood Grange fields. The soil was so fertile that it required
no ploughing or manuring. All that was necessary to freshen it in
preparation for another crop was to harrow it with the harrow which
the asses drew. But the sowing required a good deal of time and the
co-operation of all hands, even Hannah's, and it was not possible to
return to Rock Castle before the 6th of September.
Those who thus came back could not but compliment Mrs. Wolston and
Mme. Zermatt on the zeal and energy they had displayed during
their absence. The poultry-yard and the cattlesheds were in perfect
condition; the kitchen garden had been cleaned and weeded, and the
vegetable plants pricked out in masterly style. The two good housewives
had also gone in for a complete spring cleaning.
It was then decided that a final excursion should be made in the
next few days to the other settlements in the district. The farms at
Sugar-cane Grove and at Prospect Hill could be visited in the one trip.
But to reach False Hope Point would certainly take a week, and they
could not count upon being back before the middle of September.
"As for the hermitage at Eberfurt," M. Zermatt remarked, "we shall
have an opportunity to visit that when we make our expedition into the
interior of the island, for there is no other way out of the Promised
Land except the defile of Cluse, and that is near our farm."
"Quite so," Mr. Wolston replied; "but isn't there any work to be done
on the land over there which would suffer by the delay?"
"My dear Wolston," M. Zermatt answered, "all we have to do is wait
until we are wanted for the haymaking and the harvesting, and that will
not be for several weeks. So let us finish up with Sugar-cane Grove and
Prospect Hill."
This agreed to, it was decided that Hannah should not go with her
father this time, since the journey might take longer than a week, and
Mrs. Wolston might miss her.
Ernest was disappointed, and asked whether his presence, too, at Rock
Island was not also indispensable.
It was Jack who came to his aid. The day before the start, when
everybody was assembled in the general hall, he made the following bold
suggestion:
"Papa, I know quite well that Mrs. Wolston and Hannah and Mamma do
not really run any risk by being left alone at Rock Castle--but when
it is a question of leaving them for a whole week--who can say--well,
perhaps----"
"Very true, Jack," M. Zermatt replied; "I shall not have an easy minute
the whole time we are away, although there is no reason to anticipate
any danger. Up to now we have never been separated for more than two
or three days, and this time it will be for a whole week. It is a long
time. Yet, it would be very inconvenient for us all to go together."
"If you like," said Mr. Wolston, "I will stay at Rock Castle."
"No, my dear Wolston, anyone rather than you," M. Zermatt replied.
"You must go with us to Sugar-cane Grove and Prospect Hill, because of
all that is to be done there in the future. But if one of the boys is
willing to stay with his mother I shall have no more anxiety. That has
been done several times before. Now Jack----"
Jack, who could hardly keep back a smile, looked slyly at Ernest.
"What!" he exclaimed. "Is it me you ask to stay at home? Would you
deprive a hunter of such an opportunity of hunting big game? If anyone
has to stay at Rock Castle, why should it be I rather than Ernest?"
"Ernest or Jack, it is all the same," M. Zermatt answered. "Is it not
so, Mrs. Wolston?"
"Certainly, M. Zermatt."
"And with Ernest to keep you company, you would not be afraid, nor you,
Betsy, nor you, Hannah, dear?"
"Not a bit afraid," replied the girl, blushing a little.
"Speak up then, Ernest," Jack said. "You don't say if that plan suits
you?"
The plan did suit Ernest, and M. Zermatt could feel every confidence in
that serious young man, who was as careful as he was brave.
The start had been arranged for the following day. At dawn, M. Zermatt,
Mr. Wolston, and Jack said good-bye, promising to make their absence as
brief as possible.
The shortest road between Rock Castle and Sugar-cane Grove bore away on
the left to the Wood Grange Road, which ran along the coast.
The waggon, in which M. Zermatt and Mr. Wolston drove, was loaded with
bags of seed, utensils and tools, and an adequate supply of provisions
and ammunition.
Jack, who had declined to be parted from Lightfoot, rode near the
waggon, followed by his two dogs, Brownie and Fawn.
They started in a north-westerly direction, leaving Swan Lake upon the
right. Wide prairies, natural pasture grounds, extended as far as the
canal cut from Jackal River, which was crossed, about two and a half
miles from Falconhurst, by the original culvert.
There was no cart track in this direction like that which led to the
Wood Grange farm; but frequent hauling of heavy timber had levelled the
ground and destroyed the grass. So the waggon, drawn by the two sturdy
buffaloes, made good speed without any very great trouble.
The seven or eight miles to Sugar-cane Grove were covered in four hours.
M. Zermatt, Mr. Wolston, and Jack reached the house in time for
luncheon. Having eaten with excellent appetites, they set to work at
once.
They had first to repair the fences that formed the enclosure in which
the pigs had spent the rainy season. This had been invaded by some
other members of the pig family, the tajacus, or musky peccaries,
which had previously been seen at Sugar-cane Grove, and which lived on
perfectly friendly terms with the domestic pigs. The tajacus were never
driven away, for M. Zermatt knew that the flesh of these creatures
could be turned to good account, provided the musky gland in the middle
of the back was first removed.
All the plantations on this estate were found to be in first-class
order, thanks to its distance from the sea.
When M. Zermatt and his sons first visited this place it was nothing
but a marsh, which they then called Sugar-cane Marsh. That was in the
early days after their landing on the island. Now vast fields of
arable land surrounded the Sugar-cane Grove, succeeded by pastures
where cows grazed. Where the simple hut made of branches once stood
there was now a house sheltered by trees. At a little distance away
there was a thick copse, composed entirely of bamboos, whose strong
thorns could be employed as nails, and would have torn to shreds the
clothes of anyone who made his way through them.
The stay at Sugar-cane Grove lasted a week, which was entirely occupied
in sowing millet, wheat, oats and maize. Cereals throve quickly in this
soil, which was irrigated from Swan Lake. Mr. Wolston had cut a trench
from the western bank of the lake to this spot, and the water spread
over the surface of this district by the natural process of finding
its own level. As a result of this device, Sugar-cane Grove might be
regarded as the richest of the three farms established in the Promised
Land.
During this week Jack had plenty of sport. The moment he could be
spared, he went off with his dogs. The larder was plentifully stocked
with quails, grouse, partridges, and bustards, with peccaries and
agoutis. Hyenas had previously been observed in the neighbourhood, but
Jack met none, nor yet any other carnivorous animal. It was clear that
the wild animals fled before man.
While walking by the side of the lake, Jack, more fortunate than his
brother Fritz had been a few years before, got the chance to bowl over
an animal the size of a large donkey, with a dark brown coat, a kind
of hornless rhinoceros, of the tapir species. It was an anta, and it
did not fall to the first shot which the young hunter fired at twenty
paces; but just as it was charging at Jack, a second bullet pierced its
heart.
At last, in the evening of the 15th of September, all this work was
finished. The next day, after the house had been fast closed and the
enclosure shut up with a solid railing, the waggon set off towards the
north on its way to Prospect Hill, in the neighbourhood of False Hope
Point.
The farm was about five miles from that point, which stretches out like
a vulture's beak between Nautilus Bay and the open sea. The greater
part of the journey lay on a flat plain, where the going was easy. But
the plain sloped appreciably as it approached the cliff.
Two hours after the start, beyond a green and rich stretch of country
wonderfully refreshed by the rainy season, M. Zermatt, Mr. Wolston, and
Jack came to the Monkeys' Wood, which had ceased to deserve that name
since those mischievous creatures had disappeared. At the foot of the
hill they called a halt.
The sides of Prospect Hill were not really so steep that the buffaloes
and the onager could not climb them, by following a zigzag path which
wound round them. There was one really strenuous effort to be made, and
the waggon was at the top.
[Illustration: After one strenuous effort, the waggon was at the top.]
The house, being greatly exposed to the easterly and northerly winds
which beat full upon the cape, had suffered a good deal from the recent
storms. Its roof required some immediate repairs, for the gales had
dismantled it in more than one place. But now, in good summer weather,
it was quite habitable, and the party were able to instal themselves
there for a few days.
In the poultry-yard, too, where the cocks and hens were clucking and
running about, there was damage due to the bad weather to be attended
to; and the mouth of the little stream of fresh water which rose near
the top of the hill had to be cleared and opened.
In the plantations, and more especially the plantations of caper bushes
and tea plants, the chief work was that of straightening the plants
that had been beaten down by the force of the winds but were still
rooted in the ground.
During their stay here the visitors took several walks to the end of
False Hope Point. From this spot one could see over a vast extent of
sea towards the east, and over part of Nautilus Bay to the west. How
often in all these years had the shipwrecked people watched in vain for
the sight of a ship beyond this cape!
When M. Zermatt and his two companions went there now, Jack was moved
to say:
"It was twelve years ago, when we had given up all hope of ever finding
any of our companions on the _Landlord_, that we gave this cape its
fitting name of False Hope Point. If the _Unicorn_ should come into
sight over there to-day, would it not be fitting to change the name to
Cape Welcome?"
"Very fitting, my dear boy," Mr. Wolston answered, "but it is not at
all likely to happen. The _Unicorn_ is still in mid-Atlantic, and it
must be nearly two months before she can reach these waters of New
Switzerland."
"One can never tell, Mr. Wolston," Jack replied. "But, failing the
_Unicorn_, why should not some other ship come first to investigate,
and then to take possession of the island? Of course, her captain would
have good reason to call it False Hope Island, since it has been taken
possession of already!"
But no ship did appear, and it was unnecessary to alter the name
originally given to the cape.
On the 21st of September all the work at the villa at Prospect Hill was
finished, and M. Zermatt decided to start for home next day at early
dawn.
As they sat together that evening in the little balcony in front of
the house, they witnessed a magnificent sunset below a clear horizon
undimmed by the lightest haze. Ten miles away, Cape East rose from a
foundation of shadow, broken sometimes by points of light as the surf
broke against the rocks at its foot. The sea was absolutely calm, and
spread in a curve as far as Deliverance Bay. Below the hill the grass
lands, shaded by clumps of trees, blent their verdant carpet with
the yellow tinted sands. Behind, twenty miles away to the south, the
mountain range, to which Mr. Wolston's eyes often strayed, was shaded
off, its edges scalloped with a line of gold by the last rays of the
sun.
Next day the waggon went down the steep slopes of Prospect Hill and
took the road once more, and in the afternoon it arrived at the gates
of Rock Castle. The travellers were received with delight, although
their expedition had not involved an absence of more than a couple of
weeks.
That evening, when the two families were all together again in the
large hall and M. Zermatt had finished his story of the expedition to
the farms, Ernest laid upon the table a sheet of paper on which was a
coloured drawing.
"Hullo, what is that?" Jack asked. "The plan of the future capital of
New Switzerland?"
"Not yet," Ernest answered.
"Then I can't guess----"
"Why, it is the design for the inside decoration of our little chapel,"
said Hannah.
"That's it, Jack," said Ernest, "and I had to get on with it, for the
walls are half built already."
The announcement caused great pleasure, and Ernest was warmly praised
for his work, which was voted perfect both in its style and its
arrangement.
"Will there be a steeple?" Jack demanded.
"Certainly," Hannah answered.
"And a bell?"
"Yes--the _Landlord's_ bell."
"And Hannah is to have the honour of ringing it first," Ernest
announced.
It was the 24th of September, the date when Mr. Wolston's plan was to
be carried into effect.
What would be the results of this exploration of the interior of New
Switzerland?
For twelve years the shipwrecked people had been satisfied with the
district of the Promised Land. It had sufficed to assure them of a
livelihood, and even of prosperity. So, quite apart from the anxiety
she must naturally feel when any of her dear ones were absent, Mme.
Zermatt, though she did not seek to explain it even to herself, had her
doubts about this expedition.
That evening, when M. Zermatt joined her in their room, she opened her
heart to her husband, who answered her thus:
"If we were still in the same condition that we have been since we
came here I would grant you, my dear, that this journey of discovery
was not necessary. Even if Mr. Wolston and his family had been cast
by shipwreck on this island of ours, I should say to them: 'What has
been enough for us ought to be enough for you, and there is no need to
rush into adventure when the advantage is not certain, and when there
may be dangers to be incurred'; but New Switzerland has now a place on
the map, and in the interest of its future colonists it is important
that its extent should be known, the formation of its coasts and its
resources."
"Quite so, dear, quite so," Mme. Zermatt answered, "but could not all
that exploration be done better by the new arrivals?"
"Well, there would be no real harm done by waiting," M. Zermatt
admitted, "and the work might be undertaken under better conditions.
But you know, Betsy, Mr. Wolston has this idea very much at heart, and
Ernest is anxious to complete the map of New Switzerland. So I think it
is right to satisfy them."
"I would not say no, dear, if it did not mean another separation," Mme.
Zermatt replied.
"A separation for a fortnight at most!"
"Unless Mrs. Wolston and Hannah and I go too."
"That would not be wise, dear wife," M. Zermatt said firmly. "If not
dangerous, the expedition may at least be arduous and fatiguing. It
will mean walking across an arid desert under a broiling sun. The
ascent of the range is sure to be difficult."
"And so we are all to stay at Rock Castle?"
"Yes, Betsy, but I do not propose that you shall be left there alone.
I have thought a great deal about it, and this is what I have decided,
and what will meet with general approval, I think. Mr. Wolston shall
make the trip with our two boys, Ernest to take the observations, and
Jack, because he would never consent to forego such an opportunity, to
go exploring; and I will remain at Rock Castle. Will that suit you,
Betsy?"
"What a question, dear!" Mme. Zermatt answered. "We can have every
confidence in Mr. Wolston. He will not let himself be dragged into any
indiscretion. Our two boys will run no risk with him."
"I think this plan will satisfy Mrs. Wolston and Hannah," M. Zermatt
went on.
"Hannah will be rather sorry when our Ernest is away," said Mme.
Zermatt.
"And Ernest will be sorry to go without her," M. Zermatt added. "Yes,
those two young creatures are attracted towards each other, and some
day Ernest will be united to the woman he loves in the chapel he has
designed! But we will talk about that marriage again, at the proper
time."
"It will please Mr. and Mrs. Wolston as much as it pleases us," Mme.
Zermatt answered.
When M. Zermatt propounded his suggestion it was received with general
approval. Ernest and Hannah were obliged to fall in with so reasonable
a plan. The former acknowledged that ladies ought not to venture upon
an expedition of this kind, and the latter recognised that Ernest's
presence was indispensable.
The 25th of September was the date fixed for the start.
And now every one was busy getting ready for the journey. Mr. Wolston
and the two young men had agreed to make the expedition on foot. It
might well be that the country adjoining the base of the mountain
range was as difficult as that through which the upper reaches of the
Montrose River ran.
So they would go on foot, staff in hand, gun slung across back, with
the two dogs in attendance. Jack was an excellent shot, and neither Mr.
Wolston nor Ernest was to be despised, so the three hunters could rely
upon being able to find plenty of food for themselves.
But the waggon and team of buffaloes had to be got ready to convey the
two families to the hermitage at Eberfurt. M. Zermatt wished to take
advantage of this opportunity to visit this farm, which lay at the far
end of the Promised Land. The suggestion that the rest should accompany
Mr. Wolston and Jack and Ernest as far as the end of the defile of
Cluse was received with acclamation. It might, perhaps, be convenient
to prolong the stay at Eberfurt if the house should be found to
require work at which everyone would be needed to lend a hand.
On the 25th, at a very early hour, the waggon left Rock Castle,
followed by the two dogs, Brownie and Fawn. It was large enough to hold
them all. The stage was a good eight miles, but the buffaloes could
cover it before noon.
The weather was fine, the sky blue and dappled. A few light fleecy
clouds veiled the sun's rays and tempered their heat.
About eleven o'clock, after travelling across a green and fertile
country, the waggon arrived at the hermitage of Eberfurt.
In the little wood which lay on the hither side of it, a dozen or so
monkeys were seen. It was imperative to drive them out of it, and they
fled before a few shots.
As soon as the waggon had come to a stop, the party proceeded to instal
themselves in the house. Being well protected by the surrounding trees,
it had suffered but slight damage from the bad weather. While the three
women set about preparing luncheon, the men went off, about a gunshot's
range, to inspect the defile of Cluse, which led into the hinterland of
the island.
Some important and arduous work had to be done here, for powerful
animals had attempted to break through the barrier, and it was
necessary to strengthen it. It appeared that a herd of elephants had
tried to get through the defile, and if they had succeeded they might
have done great damage not only at Eberfurt, but also to the farms at
Sugar-cane Grove and Wood Grange. There might even have been occasion
to defend Rock Castle from an attack by these formidable pachyderms.
It took the afternoon and the whole of the following day to fix the
new beams and logs in place. All hands were needed to move these heavy
weights and adjust them firmly. But when the job was done they had the
satisfaction of knowing that the pass could not be forced.
The hermitage at Eberfurt was no longer the hut of Kamchatkan type,
supported by four trees and raised twenty feet above the ground. There
was now an enclosed and stockaded house, containing several rooms,
sufficient to accommodate both families. On either hand were ample
sheds built beneath the lower branches of the mangroves and evergreen
oaks. It was there that the team of buffaloes was stabled, with plenty
of fodder. There the well-trained, sturdy animals could chew the cud to
their hearts' content.
Game swarmed in the neighbourhood--hares, rabbits, partridges, cavies,
agoutis, bustards, grouse, and antelopes. Jack had a delightful time.
Some of the game, after it had been roasted before the fire sparkling
on the hearth, was reserved for the three men on their expedition. With
their game-bags at their side, their knapsacks on their back, with
tinder to light a fire, content with broiled meat and cassava cakes,
with plenty of powder and shot, and with flasks full of brandy, they
could not imagine any ground for anxiety on the score of their daily
food. Besides, as they crossed the fertile plains, of which they had
already caught glimpses over the Green Valley and to the south of Pearl
Bay, they must surely find edible roots and fruits.
On the 27th of September, at a very early hour, the last good-byes were
said in the defile of Cluse. For a whole fortnight there would be no
news of the absent ones! How long the time would seem!
"No news?" said Ernest. "No, mamma; no, Hannah dear, you shall have
news."
"By post?" Jack enquired.
"Yes, by aerial post," Ernest answered. "Don't you see this pigeon that
I have brought in its little cage? Do you suppose I brought it only to
leave it at Eberfurt? No, we will let it go from the top of the range,
and it will bring you news of our expedition."
Everybody applauded this excellent idea, and Hannah vowed in her heart
to watch every day for the coming of Ernest's messenger.
Mr. Wolston and the two brothers passed through a narrow outlet
contrived between the posts in the defile of Cluse. It was carefully
shut behind them, and in a few minutes they disappeared behind a bend
in the barrier of rock.